Off Beat (Forgotten Flounders Series Book 1)

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Off Beat (Forgotten Flounders Series Book 1) Page 23

by J. C. Hannigan


  His fingers splayed against my lower back, and I moved closer, my hand sliding over his pectoral, resting on his shoulder.

  Never breaking the kiss, he started moving me toward the mattress, stopping only when the back of my knees touched the bed. Lowering me to the mattress, he kept his large palm splayed against my back. He shifted us until my head was on my pillow, his lips and tongue still working mine.

  The sounds of our lips moving against one another filled the space of my room. My hands slipped over his shoulders—his skin hot to the touch.

  I felt on fire too—my legs parted, and he nestled between them, his thick head brushing against my sensitive core. The lace working across my skin made me let out a hiss, which Cal caught with a chuckle that morphed into a growl when I bucked my hips to rub against him again.

  I slid my hand against his torso, running it down the inked contours and ridges, and slipped beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. My fingers wrapped along his hard shaft and his hips jerked in response.

  “Condom?” he asked.

  “I don’t have one,” I whispered, panicked. Yesterday, he’d stayed until eleven. All we did was make out—heavily, on the sofa while Netflix played in the background, covering up the noises—the panting, the sucking, and moaning.

  He’d left my house with a hard-on, and I’d had to bust out my vibrator.

  He frowned. “Me either. We blew through the only one I had.”

  “You didn’t bring more?” I arched a brow, chest heaving, nipples tightening against the cool air.

  “I didn’t exactly come home with the intention of getting laid.” He pointed out, cocking a brow at me. He was fighting a smile. “You don’t have any in your nightstand?”

  “No, Cal,” I whispered, rolling my eyes and releasing my hold on his cock. I could feel my cheeks heating with embarrassment, but I tried not to give those thoughts traction.

  He pushed against me again, and I let out a quiet gasp, hand landing on his chest, over his heart.

  “Does that mean you haven’t had other men in this bed?” He asked, lowly. His eyes smoldering with want and intensity. I shook my head, drawing in my bottom lip to bite it. Shifting so that he supported his weight with one arm, Cal lifted his hand. He gently tugged my lip free, running his thumb over the seam of my lips, along my jaw.

  “No. I haven’t.” I whispered, eyes narrowing. “I wouldn’t bring strange men home while my son sleeps down the hall.”

  “Am I ever glad I don’t fall under the strange man category,” he grinned.

  “Are you…are you clean?”

  He stilled, his thumb still cupping my chin, eyes fixated on mine. I could feel his cock throbbing against me through the thin material barriers. “Yes. You’re the only one I’ve ever…gone bare with.”

  His honesty hurt; he’d confirmed the rumors, what I’d suspected. There’d been others since me. The tears came sudden and silent, and I did my best not to let them fall, but god—it stung.

  What stung more than that was the anguish in his eyes.

  As the tear slipped down my cheek, he tenderly brushed them away with his thumb, his face transformed into one of determination. “I need you to hear me, Harper.”

  He spoke quietly, but his serious tone captured my full attention. I nodded, trying to calm my breathing.

  “I won’t lie to you about anything. I can’t change the past, as much as I want to. I just have now. I have from here on out, and from here on out? I’m yours in every sense. Only yours. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I whispered, believing him with my whole heart. It was impossible not to, with the way his eyes bore into mine, with the sincerity they swirled with.

  If Cal had known what he knew now nine years ago, I know he would have made different choices—and I would have too. I couldn’t help but feel partially responsible, for not trying harder to reach out to him.

  He tucked a stray hair behind my ear, his beryl eyes studying me. “Eyes forward, babe.”

  I brought my hand to the side of his face. “Eyes forward,” I whispered, nodding.

  He smiled, desire pooling in the dark depths of his eyes as he lowered his lips to mine, gently kissing me. As he worked my mouth, his hand slid all the way up my spine. I arched into his touch, and his fingers tangled in my hair. He slowed the kiss, lifting his head and nuzzling my nose with his, the metal piercings cold against my warm flesh. “I’m yours. Say it.”

  “You’re mine,” I whispered. His lips spread into a radiant smile that made me grin just as wide.

  He pressed one tender kiss after another to my cheeks, my jaw, to the side of my neck. There he took his time, gently sucking on the flesh, making goosebumps appear like a roadmap to all the places I wanted his lips.

  He smiled against my neck, his mouth moving down, laying kisses on my collarbone, to the peak of my breast. Drawing in my nipple, he sucked it into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the tip as his fingers twisted my other nipple, tugging it. I arched my back, letting a sigh escape my lips, letting it all fade away until the only thing that existed was this moment with him.

  Calum continued moving down the length of my body, kissing and tasting a pathway straight to my mound. His tongue swirled around my belly button, dragging lower until he lifted it before reaching where I needed him. I wriggled against him impatiently.

  He grinned, finally positioned between my thighs. My trembling legs parted more for him. Cal’s breath was hot against my covered centre. His moves were deliberate as he tugged the lacy material aside.

  His tongue licked along my entrance, lapping up the wetness that seeped out of me. “God, you’re so wet already.” He moaned against my flesh before sucking my lips. Pausing, he slid his finger in. “So fucking good.” He murmured, the vibration against my clit made me mew with gratification.

  “Cal—“

  “You know what I want, Acushla.” He instructed gruffly, sliding a second finger in me. I bucked against him, walls squeezing his digits while he sucked my folds and rubbed my clit with his pinky.

  He was a musician in the sheets, too. He was playing me with every digit. I came, biting down on my fist to keep from moaning my release. He continued working me through it, sucking on my lips, drawing it out, lapping up the fruits of his labour with a wicked grin.

  He drew his fingers out, licking them, not quite through with the taste of me. His shoulder muscles strained beneath my hands as he crawled back up to kiss me.

  My eyes went to the impressive tenting of his boxer briefs, still obscuring its sight. I bit my lip, rolling the decisions over in my head.

  Since Asher was born, I’ve religiously received a hormone shot every three months on the dot. Better to be safe than sorry, even if dating was completely off the table for those first few years. I wasn’t worried about getting pregnant—again—and I believed Calum when he told me he was safe in our years apart, because even after all of the hurt he put me through by leaving—he’d never once lied to me, and he’d never put me in physical harm.

  And I was far too wound up to pull the breaks on it; not that a single fiber in my body even wanted to do that.

  I brought my hands over my chest, running my fingers over my nipples, letting my hands move down the lines of my body, spurred by the reverence and desire in his gaze as he watched me.

  My thumb hooked into my panties, and I quietly worked them down my hips. Calum took over, tugging them off and tossing them over his shoulder without a care for where they landed. His attention was fixed on me, on my heaving breasts and glistening centre.

  I sat up, grabbing him by the back of the neck, tugging him back down on me, kissing him with an eagerness I couldn’t transcribe, one that he matched with equal passion.

  While we kissed, while his hand moved up to cup my breast, I worked his boxer briefs off with a surprisingly stealthy combination of my hands and feet. He broke the kiss to chuckle quietly against my lips and squeeze my boob, his thumb running over my pert nipple.

 
He finished the task of kicking off his boxer briefs and settled between my thighs, the head of his cock pushing against my entrance. We shivered in unison at the sensation. Cal captured my eyes, holding my gaze for a moment before pushing forward, entering with one deep thrust of his hips.

  “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his forehead to mine. He rocked his hips into me, pulling out and plunging back in. He set a punishingly slow pace, each thrust deep enough to hit exactly the right spots to make my hips fall open wider. Nails digging into his hips, my walls constricting tightly around him as I came.

  After letting out a low guttural moan into the side of my neck, Calum followed, hips jerking as he spilled his release into me.

  His breath was hot against my neck. His heartbeat thudded frantically, each beat keeping up with my racing ones. He lifted his head, supporting his weight with his arms on either side, caging me in, and grinned down at me. “You feel incredible. I don’t want to move.” He whispered, pushing his pelvis into mine, driving his still hardened cock against my cervix.

  “Mmm,” my lids fluttered close. “So, don’t move, then.”

  “It’s almost eleven.”

  My heart was speeding up again, at the internal realization that I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want him to crash on Dare’s mom’s couch. I wanted him to stay. I wanted to spend the night curled up against his chest. “Stay.”

  At my command, his cock pulsed within me, as if my whispered plea had awoken it again.

  “What would your parents think? They’ll see the Jeep in your driveway.” He arched a brow.

  “I’ll tell them you crashed on the couch.” I lifted my shoulder in a small shrug. “They don’t have to know who’s in my bed at night.”

  He chuckled, slowly pulling out and rolling to my left. A mixture of him and I spilled, coating my inner thighs in our sex. Calum reached for the tissue box on my nightstand. Tugging a few out, he shifted so that he could clean up some of the mess. Once he’d wiped up the majority of it, a reflective silence fell over us.

  He lifted his eyes to mine. “What about Asher?”

  I inhaled, considering it. I hadn’t wanted to rush things because a part of me was still scared I’d be setting him up for major disappointment if things didn’t work, but Asher had already made it clear that he wanted us both to move in with Calum, so I didn’t think he’d mind a sleepover.

  “We’ll get up before him. Unless you don’t want to stay…”

  “Of course, I want to,” he growled, rolling over and lifting me so that I was on top of him. His finger brushed lightly along my ribs, and I wriggled against him, letting a laugh out, burying my face against his chest in an attempt to keep quiet. His fingers stilled against my skin. “If I had it my way…I wouldn’t be apart from either of you, ever again.”

  I lifted my head, my hair spilling over my shoulder, and studied him. His eyes were honest, raw—his touch reverent. “What about tours? Will you still go on them?”

  “Not for a year or so, and not for longer than three months. And not without the two of you.”

  “You’d want us to come with you?” I said this skeptically.

  “Why not?” He grinned, lifting his hand to push the flyaway hairs from my face. “We can schedule summer tours, when Asher’s off school, and get a tour bus of our own.”

  “And I’d just leave the bookstore?”

  “No…” he said carefully, realizing that he was drifting into waters he hadn’t meant to venture into. “If you wanted to remain home and run your incredible book shop while I toured, I would fully support that. We would video call every day, and I’d fly you guys out whenever our schedules permit it. I just thought we could do family vacations mixed with work when I had to tour.”

  The confidence that Cal usually exuded had dulled, and I could tell he was feeling vulnerable. I softened like butter.

  “You have it all figured out, don’t you?” I whispered. He smiled, his calloused finger running along the edge of my jaw.

  “I just realized that there was a thousand and one ways to make us work, and I would do any one of them to keep you. What we have, Harper? It’s everything. And I’ll fight for it; I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in my arms. Letting you go almost killed me before; I won’t survive it a second time.”

  His words made me ache, so I lowered my lips to his and kissed him. I brought up my knees, so I was straddling him as opposed to lying on him. His fingers trailed along the back of my spine as we kissed, coming to rest around the back of my neck. He squeezed gently, deepening the kiss, making me buck against him. My core slid against his shaft, and I felt him hardening against my centre.

  “Again?” I teased, internally purring with delight.

  “Get used to it, Harper. I’ll never get my fill of you,” he promised, his words igniting the already present ache in me. Moving my hips forward, I took him into me, sinking down slowly. The cords in his neck strained, every muscle in his thighs tightening with pleasure.

  Once I was fully seated, he looked up at me, his fingers applying just the right amount of pressure at the top of my spine. I rode him, taking pleasure in his thickness and length, in the smell of him—masculine and feral, intoxicating and heady. I was lost in the sensation of his touch.

  Cal let me ride him until I came, then he sat up and slipped out of me, lifting me and moving me so that I was on my knees, kneeling on the mattress beside him. He claimed my mouth, his index finger slipping between my folds to play with my clit.

  Breaking the kiss, I let out a soft moan, enjoying the leisurely swirl of his fingers. Opening my eyelids, I examined him. Although no words were exchanged, I knew exactly what he wanted from the glint in his eyes.

  I turned away from him, propping myself up on the mattress with my elbows, my ass in the air. Calum’s palms ran along my cheeks as he positioned himself behind me. He slapped my right cheek firmly before gently pushing my legs apart, spreading me to him.

  Glancing at him over my shoulder, I watched as he took his cock in his hand and ran the tip along my entrance before plunging in. My fingers gripped the sheets, clinging to them. I buried my face in the crook of my arm to muffle the sounds escaping my lips as he drove me to the brink of another orgasm.

  Calum

  Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, rousing me from a deep, comfortable sleep. For a moment, I was disoriented at the feminine bedroom, and at the soft body in my arms.

  I hadn’t let a woman spend the night in my bed in years—not since Harper. There was a certain amount of trust to be given when you shared a bed with someone, and she was the only woman I’d ever given that trust to.

  But even if my mind was disoriented, my body was at ease. I would have blindly recognized the feel of her body against mine, and the familiar scent of her.

  Harper’s back was tucked against my chest, her head resting on her pillow—strands of her hair tickled my nose, but I didn’t move. The house was quiet, the sun had yet to rise and for a moment, everything felt still and right.

  Then my phone buzzed, moving against the wood surface of Harper’s end table. I carefully pulled my arm free and turned, reaching for it.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Oh, I didn’t wake you, did I?” My mother fretted. I sat up, swinging my legs over the mattress.

  “No, I was awake. What’s up, Mom? Everything all right?”

  “We haven’t seen you around in a couple of days, and I noticed your things were gone from your room…” She trailed off, letting the silence speak for itself. I shifted the phone to my other ear, pinning it there with my shoulder, and sat up in bed, the white sheets bunching around my waist. “Are you staying somewhere else?”

  “Yeah. I think Dad needs the space.” I sure as fuck did. It was far easier to breathe without having to walk on eggshells around someone, and I was able to better focus on what I needed to do—the next steps.

  “Oh. I understand.” She replied, sounding slightly disappointed, but acceptin
g. “I heard from Gramps’ lawyer. The reading is this morning at nine-thirty. Can you make it?”

  “Of course,” I assured her, glancing at Harper’s sleeping body, her hair spilling over her pillow, a silky thigh exposed, her lower leg tangling with the sheet.

  “Could we do lunch?”

  “Is the old man up for that?”

  “I meant you, your sister, and me. Your father has to be at work as soon as we’re done with the lawyer.”

  “All right. Text me the address, and I’ll see you later this morning.”

  After saying goodbye, I disconnected the call and held my phone in my hand, peering back at Harper.

  I’d kept her well up into the morning, and she was out cold. The sound of my voice didn’t stir her, nor did my movements as I carefully left her bed—stilling when she let out a contented sigh and rolled over, slumbering on.

  Dressing quietly, I opened the door, and tip toed down the hall, descending the stairs light-footed—and came to a screeching halt when I realized Asher was sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal and reading a comic book, already dressed for the day.

  “Hi Dad,” he said between bites, glancing up at me as I walked into the living room.

  “Hey bud…it’s six am, what are you doing up?”

  “Couldn’t sleep anymore.” Asher shrugged. “And I was hungry.”

  Nodding slowly, I considered my options. I knew that Harper wanted to take it somewhat slow, and I was pretty sure Asher discovering me sneaking from his mom’s room was the furthest thing from slow.

  But for better or worse, I was caught, and Asher seemed completely okay with it. I decided to act casual and walked into the kitchen, flicking on the light. “Are you sure you don’t want pancakes or something?”

  “We don’t have pancake mix. Mom always burns pancakes, so she thinks we’re saving money this way since we’re not just tossing them in the trash. When I really want them, I tell Nik to bring me some from the diner.”

 

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